


Metallurgy

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Branding, General Creepiness, M/M, Psychological Torture, Shockwave Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shockwave gives Blurr a few new marks; on his frame and processor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metallurgy

“Just as I thought,” Trailing a claw down still sensitive patchwork caused Blurr to shiver though the room was kept static at a temperature appropriate for his lithe frame. “Your new plating is integrating nicely.” Partially set it was just now beginning to adapt the same shade of brilliant blue that painted the rest of Blurr’s outer armour. Compliant. Just as his agent had been moments prior, before the magnets had activated securing him firmly in place; there was little room for error this cycle. Blurr would have to remain still, a task that without assistance was difficult for him at the best of times. If he were prone to he might consider himself lucky for such aid, but they hadn’t gotten quite so far yet. That would come only with time and habitualization.

“You should appreciate all that I do for you.” Shockwave worked his way from fresh alloy up the black glass windshield and his captive squirmed, shaking his helm in a quick autonomic movement. Blurr held no mark on his frame. “Anyone else wouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” But that wouldn’t be the case for long.

“No… No! Everything you say is a lie! Every word!” Blurr was feeling defiant again today, anxious aggravated noises punctuating his words and long legs pushing and kicking fruitlessly against that on which he was stuck. Even if he had a full range of movement, the speedster should have learnt by now that his speed and all the momentum that came with it had been conditionally disabled. Conditions being beyond his current capacity to meet.

“Is that so?” For solar cycles now the former agent had been telling him, in naïve bouts of insurgency that he’d never be anything but an Autobot. Ever since his insignia had been scratched out and patched over he’d been insistent on this fabricated fact, foolishly attempting to solidify his own conviction when his optics filtered shame and doubt. The blind faith of an Autobot was trite on most, but in Blurr it manifested as a particular form of corruptible devotion. Shockwave caressed over the tender patch of plating once more earning a muted gasp from Blurr. Out of the direct line of sight of his agent he slowly began building the charge required to cauterize on the first claw of his other servo. It was a more demanding method to be sure but far more rewarding. “Every word I say is a lie is it, little Autobot? And I suppose that’s been the case since the very beginning.”

Blurr’s expression darkened. “Yes.” He didn’t want to believe it. The speedster shook and trembled; the telltale sign of another burst of energy. Shockwave merely waited it out as he flailed and fought in vain against the overpowering pull of the magnets which flattened him back to the berth. Blurr twisted with nowhere to go and was forced back down again for it.

A hitching vent, a stuttering fanblade and Shockwave was soothing the tip of a massive claw along Blurr’s cheek this time, delighting in the delicate faceplating. White gently curved alloy that was tense with apprehension and soft with youth. “I think _you’re_ the one who’s lying, Blurr.”

Blurr opened his mouth to protest and Shockwave pressed his claw into it eliciting only a strangled noise instead. After a startled nanoklik denta gnashed onto it furiously as with a squawk of disapproval Blurr attempted to push the offending claw away with both glossa and teeth. He wasn’t successful.

“How many times has that vocaliser betrayed your frame?” Shockwave pondered it while pressing Blurr’s helm back to expose black neck cabling. That vocaliser could indeed be bothersome at times… But it was not what he would fix today. A faint sizzle from the side as his left servo brushed against the berth informed him the charge was sufficient; it was ready now. Shockwave kept one digit firmly in Blurr’s mouth and spread his other two claws to bright blue shoulderpads effectively pinning the tiny mech from any further twisting and turning. Truly all it took was the weight of his servo to hold the bot, he was such a light frame designed for little more than his speed and agility. With a pace set in its importance – reverence, quite nearly – the red hot tip of Shockwave’s heated claw was brought into view, glowing like the biolights mounted on his shoulders. For what may have been the first time Blurr realised exactly what was expected of him in this endeavor. Blue optics flew wide and muffled protests grew in frequency and horror as he stared in growing comprehension and fear at what would become his torture device. As an academy bot, and a recent one at that, Blurr had never been branded. No Autobots opted for lasers these stellar cycles, a virtually painless procedure that marked without damage and was all too easy to remove for it. Shockwave was looking for something far more permanent. A mark on still integrating alloy; tender, fresh and malleable. A brand that would stand the test of time, tear, even replacement.

In an instant agonizingly slow and far too fast the red hot dagger of a claw touched down on fresh, still partially silver plating and suddenly Blurr was grateful for the one already in his mouth. He screamed around it. Blunt denta ground against tempered metal in attempt to find purchase against it, just something, anything to hold on to as Shockwave calmly etched the first line into Blurr’s chestplating. Blurr bit down on Shockwave’s claw like a lifeline. The poor thing hadn’t quite expected it to feel like that now had he? It was intriguing how quickly his speedster forgot physical pain when it suited him; the constitution of a racer no doubt.

The next line burnt in long, an angry groove parallel to the first and punctuated by a gasp and a short series of distressed noised from Blurr. Desperately he tongued his glossa against the underside of the claw in his mouth, shaking his helm in an effort to make it stop. The thick smell of molten metal permeated the air around them and Blurr choked on it, fans hitching and spluttering. He twitched and attempted to jerk away from the magnetised berth all in vain, and Shockwave needn’t watch to determine what move he would try for next. Blurr was noted for his speed, but what was truly remarkable about the racer was his predictability.

“Shh,” Shockwave soothed his servo further into blue shoulderpads. It was of utmost importance his upper frame remained still. “Relax for me Blurr. It will be over soon.”

Obediently Blurr wrapped his white lips further around the sizeable claw in his mouth, sucking it back to tighten his grip in preparation. It was all he could do. The next line seared in slowly as the first, and the four after that sizzling with wisps of steam as Blurr’s still sensitive chestplating burned under Shockwave’s expert precision. Blurr was screaming again, more of a choking sob the little one couldn’t help and Shockwave granted him a small reprieve as his plating cooled and set. Releasing Blurr’s shoulders he slid his claw out of Blurr’s mouth smoothly trailing the racer’s own oral fluids down his cheek in what he deemed to be a comforting motion.

“You’re doing very well.”

Blurr panted against the berth with nothing to fill his mouth and semitransparent fluids collecting from his lips on the dark blue patch of his chin. His resolve was weak and his words hit Shockwave as nothing more than a trickle of air across his plating. “I will _never_ be a Decepticon.” Defiance again. And when he’d been doing so well only moments before.

A heavy servo moved down to rub into slender hips and Shockwave hummed his agreement detachedly. “Likely not.”

That hadn’t been the answer Blurr was expecting. Beautiful blue optics brightened in confusion, fear, and unbeknownst to himself the former agent whimpered, darting his helm down to look at the grooves etched painfully into silver plating. He didn’t get the chance. Predictable as always, Shockwave had known to catch the speedster’s chin before it even started moving. He dragged the Autobot’s optics up to meet his one, taking in with satisfaction how very delicate Blurr was, how very easy it was to move him. Pliable. Impressionable. Submissive.

“You may see it when it’s finished, my pet.”

“Don’t—“ Blurr cut himself off with a cry when Shockwave started working again. This time however, there was no attempt to behave well; he thrashed and fought insistently even revving engine and wheels in a desperate bid to escape his fate. It was of course inevitable and without something to focus on in relief this time Blurr was in misery. “St-stop! Stop, stop, stop! Stop it! Please!”

For a moment it looked as if Shockwave was considering his plea, but all the brief pause brought the agent was a hot burn. Shockwave tapped the tenderized plating with a second claw and Blurr yelped, pede jerking forward in urgency only to be firmly pulled back to the berth. “You’ve had worse.” Much worse. That Blurr could handle the task he’d been given was something of which Shockwave was certain. The mark would be finished and would be finished to perfection; Shockwave expected no less. It would be over soon, he assured his speedster, it would all be over soon. Pretty lies.

At some point Blurr’s screams turned into sobs and by the time Shockwave had finished he’d given up entirely, resigning his helm down to the berth and his frame to its fate. The sharp scent of seared metal hardwired into his databanks – it would not be one he soon forgot.

“Blurr. Look at me.”

Blurr shook his helm weakly, optics offline in a mix of shame and misery. “I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to see you, I hate you.” The speedster’s ventilation cycled in short shallow pants, and Shockwave turned his helm curiously. His own optics red glow illuminated Blurr beautifully, right down to the still cooling brand on his chest. He wanted Blurr to see it.

“Look at me.” This time the command was accompanied by a light touch to his side, and Blurr onlined his optics to obey. Compliant; all he needed was some direction just as the patchwork on his chestplate did. It pleased the Decepticon spy immensely. He held Blurr’s gaze motionlessly for far too long, until little blue optics darted to the side and back, unsure of his intentions and tensing for the worst.

“You may see it now.”

Blurr blinked, once, twice, then darted his helm down to his chestplate; anxiety it seemed won out over fear. The noise he made was somewhere between a horrified gasp and a distressed cry. “No, no no no, no.” It wasn’t the Decepticon insignia. With the same basic shape right down to the pointed ‘face’ and triangular protrusions it was similar, but it wasn’t the Decepticon insignia. The detailing of the face had been wiped clean, replaced with a single circle and long stylized horns adorned the top. It was _worse_ than the Decepticon insignia.  “No! I’m not— I don’t— Y-you can’t.” Speechless. Or very nearly so. Blurr was restrained by only his own shock now, ventilation systems gasping shallowly as he worked himself to a state near hyperventilation. Reality was often a hard thing to accept, and nothing brought it home so fast as physical evidence. The brand so carefully seared into Blurr’s plating served as both a trophy and a reminder, as well as a firmly but not overstated claim; from Autobot elite to Shockwave’s own.

“You look beautiful.” Shockwave pulled his pet’s gaze back up by a claw under the chin and Blurr jerked his helm away violently. Adamant on rebuking every kind touch he was presented with but yielding all too easily to that of the cruel, for one do dedicated to speed Blurr certainly enjoyed doing things the hard way.

“I’ll never be yours.” Brave face. Blurr set his optics hard and his face straight as he’d long since been taught to do; Shockwave could nearly feel the way his little spark hammered and thrummed behind its black windshield casing.  “Do you hear me? I-I don’t care what you do, it doesn’t matter, I’ll always be an Autobot and you’ll never be able to take that away from me no matter how you try I’ll never belong to you.” The mindset of Iaconian Autobots was a curious one, Shockwave pet along the fin on Blurr’s helm just to watch the blue mech squirm prettily away from it. Not old Iaconian Autobots, no the new age bots; the ones cold constructed and determined for the Autobot Academy and a lifetime of dedicated service as early as their creation. They were made to be so impressionable, so obedient, and with a near unshakable loyalty in their command and their Magnus. Pitiful fools no doubt, and they had been throughout his entire undercover mission. Vorns of nothing but Autobot ignorance; and Blurr. If he could be so easily trained – and he had been thoroughly – there was no reason Shockwave could not re-train him. Shift that undefeatable loyalty until it was no longer Autobot Command all faith was put into; Blurr would have a new master.

With a fluidity often underestimated due to his size Shockwave closed the distance between them, long neck craning his helm forward. “You’re not a terribly good liar, are you?” Blurr shuttered his optics from the harsh red glow pressing up autonomously into the mech looming above him. A tender brush against the new insignia was all it took to have him arching and gasping, pain into pleasure. Shockwave couldn’t resist working skillful claws down those powerfully lean thighs next.

“It’s alright, little one.” He was integrating nicely. “You’ll learn.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to wind up smutty and it never did. Next time!


End file.
